Revelations
by Elisabeth Hill
Summary: There's no such thing as vampires. Right? Well, Michael Emerson has just found out otherwise.


AN: So. More Lost Boys-related rambling from me. Sorry to anyone who's watching for updates to my Labyrinth stories; they've kind of fallen by the wayside. I'm trying to get my act together and write more chapters for both Forgotten and Once Upon a Masquerade, but it's harrrrrrrrrd.

I am _such_ a fandom whore.

* * *

It hurts. Oh, God, it hurts.

How did I even get here? I can't think, can barely breathe. I should've listened. Somewhere down the line, I should've stopped, taken a step back, gone, _Wait a minute. I've known these guys for what, five minutes? How do I know I can trust them? Why am I acting like such a stupid prick?_ I should have listened, to Sammy, to Star, to that little voice in my head saying, _Trust me, this is a really, monumentally bad idea._ God, I should have thought with my brain instead of my cock and my oversized ego. But I didn't. Oh, God, I plunged into this with my eyes shut. And it's too late now, isn't it? Much, much too late. And I'm not talking about the time of night.

It feels like something is _eating_ my _insides_.

Hey, the window I'm looking up at isn't mine, is it? It's Sammy's. Why am I...?

Where are my thoughts? They should be keeping me company, not running for cover. But they're running, traitorous little bastards. Maybe they're scared of me. They should be. Right now, _I'm_ scared of me. Scared of myself. Scared of what I might do.

Oh, _fuck_ –

It's worse than it was last night, and better. Worse because I can't ignore it, can't mistake it, this awful _burning_, this...this _hunger_. Shit, it's unnatural, it's wrong, it's...

Fuck, it's uncontrollable. Even from here, even outside, I can hear the heartbeats, can almost taste –

No. Don't go there.

Okay. Come back here, thoughts, you little bastards. You're in this one with me, whether you like it or not. See what happened last time you scurried into hiding instead of helping me out? We're going to finish this train of thought, whether you like it or not.

So. It's worse than last night, bad enough that I can't mistake it for ordinary thirst or for plain lust, bad enough that I can't satisfy it with meaningless sex. But it's better, too – I can almost keep it under control now, think I might even be able to think if I concentrate.

Concentrate.

I'm going to have to go in there. Have to get my stuff, have to say goodbye or something – there was a reason I came here, wasn't there? Besides the obvious. Besides thoughts – not really thoughts, even – besides anticipation of how sweet it'll be when I sink teeth into –

Not going there.

Focus.

On what?

_When,_ not _if_. Oh God. This is for real, isn't it? This isn't a dream, isn't a game, isn't like a horror movie or something. This is _happening_. And I can't stop it. I can't _stop_ it. This isn't like last night, desperately trying to deny it, to rationalize it. _It's nothing. I must be dehydrated. Fuck, Mike, what are you doing? This is the bathroom, not the kitchen. Are you sick? You've got to be sick. It's got to be some kind of warped fever dream. Yeah. That's it._

Oh, I'm sick all right.

I can't hide anymore. Can't hide from them. Can't hide from myself.

_You really fucked this one up, you know that, Mike?_

Okay. Have to go in there. But I'm not going to do anything...anything to anyone. I'm not going to scare them, I'm not going to hurt them, I'm not even going to talk to Mom or Grandpa. Just Sam. Sam knows what's going on. Hell, he knows better than I do, and that's hardly fair, is it? No, I'd say it's not fair at all. Sammy knows what's going on, and I haven't got a clue. Or hadn't, until tonight.

Oh, God. I can still see them when I close my eyes.

Eyes...oh God, what happened to my eyes back there? For a moment, everything went red –

No. Don't panic. Focus.

I can still see the whole bloody thing. 'Bloody' being an accurate description here. Of course, I didn't really think they were just taking me to a party. But I couldn't even have imagined what really happened.

Okay, maybe I could have _imagined_ it. Especially last night, when –

No. No, don`t think about it. Don`t –

Oh God. Oh God, it _hurts_.

Well, it`s too late now, with this desperate need devouring my insides, with the whole scene replaying itself, bloody and vicious and awful and disgusting and...

..._delicious_.

No. No nonononono. Have to stop this, have to get this under control, because I still have to work out a way to sneak into the house and –

And hey, I can just fly up to Sammy`s window. No one`ll be the wiser.

Oh God. I – I –

I have no _right_ to be calling on God right now, because it`s too late for me. Far, far too late. Because...because...

Because Sammy was right. I'm a creature of the night. A goddamn, shit-sucking vampire.

A vampire.

This really can't be happening.


End file.
